Excuse me: They do what now?
by Desvendapur
Summary: The socially awkward crew of the August Flower are sent on a rescue mission. Only problem is they can't even take each other seriously, so can they possibly handle the most dangerous species known to mankind? Parody of Alien fic and movie cliches
1. Chapter 1

"Excuse me: They do what now?"

By Vance Berk

Lieutenant Dennis Wilson looked at the screen and then to the scientist. He was an elderly man who had apparently garnered the nerve to sneak aboard the _August Flower_ while its marines were preparing for a dispatch to investigate a colony which had been out of contact for two months. He had finally been caught sleeping in the kitchen by night watchmen. This caused a scare which meant that many of the crew had to be awoken four days prior to their official thaw date.

Now since they were already in deep space he couldn't legally expel this man from the ship and apparently –though his English was bad- he knew the law that allowed him to explain himself to the man in charge of the ship, which for the moment was Lieutenant Dennis F. Wilson.

"B'and zis vi the covonists b-are dead, Lieutenant!" he shouted. Wilson didn't like the way this asshole talked. Either he was foreign or he was deaf, and either way the Lieutenant couldn't understand what it was he was rambling.

"So you're saying that those colonists who we should be saving are already dead?" He replied, rubbing his eyes groggily. "Or you're saying the colonists have killed-_dead_ some delicious _bear_ and wish to share it with us upon arrival…that or the colony is made up of a hierarchy of _chauvinists_ and they would like to roast us some _boar_."

"Iz says they is eaten v'ithin!" The man sputtered. His face came across as a very childish- pouty, like he wanted some new toy.

"V'ithin? Doctor, if that's your actual title could you please try and speak in the English language? I do not want any _venison_. I had enough deer as a child." Though, quite frankly, some deer jerky would actually go nicely with a foaming cup of ale right about now.

"I dis' speak ze venglish!" The doctor protested his face being one of sheer discontent.

"Sure you do…" _Well, fuck- this wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. I'd rather eat an entire loaf of rationed cornbread than decipher this shit. _

"Sir, you are on private property and I should eject your wrinkled ass into space, but I'm going to play nice guy and drop you the fuck off at the next Government Aid Station." There was no reasoning with this man, so it was time to fall back to protocol.

"O want to die!" he started to repeatedly shout in his mindless babble.

"O's gonna die? Sire, I'm not concerned about breakfast cereals right now!"

"Ou' want to die?"

"What the fuck is _ou_!"

"V'ou!"

"You? _You_ as in _me_? Now let's not get into threats now, I just want to know what this is about _Os_ dying."

"V'ou!"

"…Jew?"

"V'ou!" the man hollered, slamming his fists against the table. "V'ou, v'ou, v'ou, v'ou!"

"I think he's saying _you_, sir!" the private standing watch called out.

"So now you're threatening me?" This was certainly getting out of hand pretty fast. The whole thing had started out as a search and rescue mission and now he had some decrepit peckerwood tossing around death threats like nobody's business.

"No! The a'vian eats out!" The man was frantic and waving his arms in some sort of deranged fashion. He had to be a nut, but this was somewhat amusing- if only in a _watch the senile man ramble_ sort of way. Maybe he could sell the audio tapes of this.

"Avian? A fucking _bird_ is going to kill me and eat the colonists?"

This is when the local doctor, Miss Hon-_who-gives-a-fuck_ decided to walk in and get involved. Wilson hated the bitch, which also seemed to have a few screws loose. After all, she thought soap and clean scrotums was the key to releasing a dead man's soul after battle. Something about that was unnerving, yet slightly arousing to the lieutenant- one last shake down before moving on to the realm beyond.

"I do believe he said _alien_, lieutenant. Not _avian_, as you were so inclined to interpret." Of course she had to say this in that preppy tone of voice which was the verbal equivalent of nails against a chalkboard. Or worse – in the mind of the lieutenant: the sound of melons being squeezed together before exploding in masses of fruity juice.

"Aliens are killing colonists?" he inquired with a role of his eyes. "What the hell is this? Some sort of cheesy-fuck movie where the hero saves the day, but doesn't really do it for the betterment of mankind, but because of some whining kid? Come on!"

"Hey- I like several archive films like that!" one of the privates standing guard butted in.

"Well yes, some are quite good, but that formula has been used way too often to be considered compelling anymore," his partner added in.

"Okay we all like at least one of those! Can we stay on the fucking topic at hand?" Wilson shouted, not knowing why he suddenly was angry…and craving the taste of a tuna sandwich with extra mayo on top. For some reason he always got hungry when he was angry.

"No! The a'vian v'ets you vot!" the speech impaired stowaway scientist jumped back into the conversation.

Cocking a brow the officer turned around. "The alien does _WHAT?" _

"V'ets you OUT! Vroom the inside!" Here the man was going into hysterics, but only one thing got through to Wilson's mind.

"The alien's gonna eat me out?" Wilson shouted, wanting to punch this goddamned crazy right across his wrinkled face. "Could someone please explain what the fuck this man is saying? He's here talking about goddamned things molesting and killing people and I can't make heads or tails of it. Shit!"

"Mister," the doctor said kneeling down beside the doctor, "do you mean to say that the _alien_ gets insides you and _eats_ its way out of you? Is that what you mean to say?"

Fucking bitch had to talk in the goddamned tone of voice-but to top it off she was baby talking the man and that sissy-pissy talk really boiled Wilson's eggs.

"V'es! Eatan vrom inside-v'out!" the doctor shouted, rapidly nodding his head. This was a sorry sight because he came across as being the broken down bobble head from hell.

"Lieutenant," the prepcunt began in the most cutesy voice she could manage, "I believe what this nice young gentlemen was trying to say was-"

"You know I'm the only one who understands the fucking English language in this fucking room, so yes I fucking know what he said now! I don't need you talking down to me like a three year old and pretending to be all cutesy for our guest. Shit, you probably just want to suck his wrinkled dick you stupid fucking whore! Why don't you take him out back and lick his wrinkled asshole!" He just couldn't stop fuming over the stupidity of this entire conversation. "We are landing on this fucking planet, and we are getting some fucking answers- _very nice_ aroused monsters or not!"

"Vew ye'sel!" the doctor exclaimed loudly.

"I _view myself_ in the mirror every day, your wrinkly prick!"

"'REW 'ou 'elf!"

"Yeah, well _fuck your Elf too_!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Excuse me: They do what now?"

Part 2

The blockish shape of the _August Flower_ began to approach the orbit of planet XJ-Zippity. The quiet looking green planet was of great beauty, having a thriving rainforest full of new animal and plant life that covered most of its surface, with one ocean that seemed to resemble a kidney at the center of it all. It was a quiet forest that was scheduled to be demolished to make way for a highway connecting the planet's four research compounds. This was after all the reason why the USCM was being sent to investigate in the first place. The demolition team had just arrived and radioed in two months prior to the warship's arrival. They would have come sooner, but you see, four colonies going quiet took a month's worth of paper work to explain, so they were well aware of the situation a week after the team had last radioed in (company didn't care much about those backwater lots anyhow).

Lieutenant Wilson stood at attention, now having managed to get into full uniform. The entire team of twenty marines was stationed in front of him, but unlike him they had yet to dress- many keeping to bottoms, belts, boots and tank tops. They all looked as if they had just stumbled out of bed following one hell of a one night stand.

Normally he would take this as a moment to scold them all for their lack of formality, but at the moment his eyes couldn't look away from his shoes. A small white smear had somehow appeared on his right boot's toe, and for now the only thing on his mind was "How the **fuck** did _that_ get there?"

"Officer on deck!" Sergeant Scott called out and suddenly everyone was standing at full attention. This also managed to get Wilson's attention away from his soiled boot. Though, it was kind of weird because he'd been standing there a good five minutes before the sergeant dropped this little announcement. Maybe he though the Lieutenant would address himself upon entry.

"Alright, listen up," Wilson began. "The situation is routine and there should be absolutely no- …Where the fuck is Jackson?"

"I'd say sucking some dick behind the APC, sir!" one private replied. The soldier's face remained entirely composed as he said so. This comment could be considered out of line by many, but the lieutenant refused to acknowledge this banter. **Everyone** knew that Jackson _probably_ sucked dick. Whose dick they had no idea, but he was sucking some dick. Maybe he was sucking lots of dick…the Lieutenant wouldn't know, of course, due to a strong lack of caring.

"What the fuck, Anderson!" Private Jackson shouted, poking his head out from behind everyone else. He was after all the shortest member of the team, and it was dumb of him to stick in the back. She you're a man who's 5'7" you just don't stand behind the fuckers who are six feet tall.

"Found him, Lieutenant! He just wanted to prepare a sneak attack from behind!" Private Fincher shouted which was followed by the laughter of the other men in the company. Though some laughed not quote as loud- maybe they were Jackson's _friends_ everyone seemed to reference. Once again, however the lieutenant didn't care enough to dwell on this or remember the suspects.

"Everyone just shut the fuck up!" Wilson called out, anger leaking into his tone. "I don't care who's sucking off no dicks or who's having no dicks sucked! Remember, as far as I'm concerned I am your mother, I am your father- and as of this moment I am your worst nightmare, so straighten up!"

"Hey, lieutenant," Private Scott called out. "I think Jackson wants you to play daddy for him!"

A few ass-kickings later the briefing was well on its way. At this point Wilson could feel his blood pressure rising, and he began to regret all those deep-fried cheeseburgers he had as a teen, because those had to be killing him now. Also, Wilson's desire for a tuna sandwich was literally drilling his sub-conscience like a prom date.

"Listen, marines, you all knows the mission. Standard procedure: investigation and possible search and rescue. There will be nothing special going on here so don't feel like you need to try and pull of any heroics. I will guarantee that there will be no stars given out for this mission, so don't even try it!" _Like any of these ass clowns were capable of heroics without some outside motivation. _

"Sergeant Scott, make sure that everyone is ready to move out in 0200 hours." He finally said. His stomach was aching like nobody's business and he needed to smack down on that contraband fish spread he kept in his office desk's drawer right now. That, plus some mayonnaise would make his day and help him keep his head in the metaphorically non-existent game.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't be able to sneak off so easy because the sergeant stopped him as soon as he had spun around to leave. Sometimes he just had the strangest feeling that everyone was out to get him and prevent him from smacking down on his beloved food.

"Sir, the men still need to eat. You told us to get here without hitting the mess first, and they all need to take time to eat if you wish them to perform efficiently." The sergeant said this with a salute and everything and all Wilson could think was _Who the fuck decided on being formal when asking for ham and cheese? _

Wilson was baffled. "Well I figured you wouldn't follow my words that literally! Jesus, got here forty-five minutes after I issued that order! You had plenty of time to 'mack on some fucking rations."

"And we were waiting her for forty-five minutes exactly, sir." The sergeant said this with great sincerity and by the look on his face Wilson could tell that these men were being fucking robots.

"Fine, fine, just go eat up! Go pound each other's asses out back for all I care- in fact I don't fucking care! Just be here in 0200-fucking-hours! Mother fucker!" he shouted before storming off. He didn't have the time or the patience to put up with another idiotic situation. In fact, he hoped that he didn't have to talk to another human being this entire mission.

Now if he hadn't been in such a rush to reach his precious sandwich he would have seen the scene that unfolded after he left: The one where the sergeant smiled and shouted out "Listen up everybody! Seconds are on me!" followed by the cheers and laughter of everyone in the hanger.


End file.
